The Girl And The Solider
by Moon Witch '96
Summary: Here's a story of a Girl, abandoned by family. Here's the story of a Solider, lost in guilt. They meet earlier than before, just as they were forming what it means to be a Girl and a Solider. With this meeting, sparks fly, hope rises, and a tentative sort of emotion that neither can understand quite yet. This is their altered story... AU. Please Read and Review.


**Another Name On the Sole**

The second Aurora May Booth saw her picture she knew. The shyly smiling girl peaking from behind her hair caught her attention in a heartbeat. It had begun over two months ago, after her last two foster children had left the nest, leaving behind two empty rooms, one between her grandsons', and one room across it. She had had a total of five foster children in the course of ten years, and as always, she wanted another one. Hank, her dear husband had simply smiled and laughed in that loud, lovely way of his. Jared, her youngest grandson, had looked at her as if she was crazy, but asked for a boy. Seeley, her eldest grandson, had laughed over the phone and told her to go for it, asking for a boy.

Aurora herself had wanted a little girl, under the age of ten, and had requested such, ready to give one a home, one who _needed_ her and Hank for a long time to come. But then she had seen the picture, among the social worker's papers, and had asked about her. One thing lead to another, and without her really meaning to, Aurora and Hank were set for fostering a seventeen year old teenager, Temperance Brennan. For what she had heard, Temperance needed someone, and Aurora wanted to be that someone to help the girl.

When she saw her face to face, the feeling she had when she saw her picture was confirmed. She could never really say what it was, her posture was stiff, her shoulders slightly hunched. Her long hair was over her thin, sharp shoulders and covered her pale face. She wasn't smiling, her face rather blank as her young caseworker, Ruth Chirban spoke of the specifics of her Temperance Brennan's pending adoption into her home. She didn't look happy, she looked sullen in fact. All and all she did not look as if she would be easy to be around, nothing should have endeared her to Aurora. But Aurora knew that she was going to adopt this girl, she was going to like her, and she would keep her with her as much as she could. Maybe it was the way she spoke(however briefly), her voice was soft, light. But she had an undertone of intelligence, and polite to boot. Maybe it was her eyes. A person could tell a lot from another's eyes, and the pale blue eyes that peeked from behind the chestnut strands said something to her. They had in the photograph, and in real life, they were stunning.

The girl was tall, rounding around five seven, and would probably grow an inch or so more. She was thin and boney, with small, slender hands and feet, she had a sign of curves when she was older in her build, Aurora thought. Her pale skin was free of blemishes, and her hair fell to the girl's waist in a dark chestnut fall. Though she was gangly, and all angles, Aurora knew she would grow out of this phase, and become a beautiful young woman. Her cheekbones and jaw line were to die for, she thought, and would send men into a frenzy. The thought made Aurora snicker slightly, and she turned her attention back on the caseworker, trying to ignore her inner ramblings.

It wouldn't be for long, said Ms. Chirban blandly, her hard face never wavering from its bored look, Temperance would be eighteen in little over a year, the least any child had every stayed in their home. Something in Chirban's face said that she doubted she would last that long in the Booth home, and that irked both Aurora, and Hank Booth slightly as the woman spoke of other details, fiances, schooling, ect. Things that all three adults had covered a million and one times over. It was protocol, she knew, she had experience the same with her other foster children, but she felt that maybe this girl was getting an extra long process. Somehow, knowing her history, she didn't doubt it. The only reason it had taken this short of a time was because of Hank's and her's history of children.

Hank Booth himself looked at the overall skinny, tall girl seated beside her casework with a interested eye. She was a quiet thing, and this was the first time both he and his wife had met their sixth foster child face to face. She didn't have a stand out personality, crying for help or overall angry attitude like his other kids, and she had only just greeted them and made the smallest bit of small talk. It had been the basic 'how to you do'. But her voice was firm, to the point. Overall, he couldn't really say if he liked her at all, or hated her really. He wasn't sure why his wife, Rora was so sure of this girl, knowing other kids could need them too, and knowing that they could only really handle one at the moment... But he trusted her, and as Chirban passed the over the final papers with out any ceremony, flinging the cheap pen at them as an after thought, he knew he would follow through on his promise to give this girl a chance.

Hank shared a brief look with Rora, and he reached over and began to read what was given. He ignored the hard, irritated look he received from the caseworker. He read everything he was ever given to sign, and one annoyed look would not change his lifetime habits now. His glasses perched on his nose were a slight annoyance to himself, but he read on. Aurora kept her eyes on the girl, smiling softly, hand twined with Hank's. The older couple smiled at her often, and when they spoke it was careful and very kind.

This did not escape Temperance Brennan's notice, as many things didn't.

She was not good with people. This was a factor that Temperance knew very well, she had known that since as long as she could remember. She did not understand them, they were not something she could observe and read, they were wild cards and it was uncomfortable for the seventeen year old to be around them. None of the patterns she ever discovered within anyone stayed constant. To Temperance, anything that strayed from patterns she developed threw her for a loop. She had learned this through observation and personal experience.

Even people who seemed kind, like the Booths seemed to be, could turn on you. The Roads had been kind. They had smiled almost as much as Mrs. Booth was doing now. They had also been very strict, and she had seen their other side as soon as her old caseworker found them fit for her. They had also locked her in the trunk of their car in a fit of drunken rage when she had dropped a plate. At the thought Temperance shivered, rubbing her hands in her lap, almost as if she could feel the heat of the water that had caused her to drop the plate in the first place.

She wondered as she peaked quickly into Mrs. Booth brown eyes when she would finally stop smiling at her. She looked down again when the older woman smiled a little harder at the eye contact. Somehow, her foster 'parents' always stopped smiling. It usually meant she was leaving, it also meant she was leaving with a bad memory. That pattern, at least, stayed true. But, as she looked on the older couple, she couldn't help but wonder. Would she be happy with them? She couldn't say all her foster homes were bad. That would be both unfair to them and unlogical. She couldn't really remember the difference between the first five, they had been a blur, and she remember them not being able to cope with her very well. She really didn't blame them. But the Princes had been decent but they had had to many kids and had to let one go, the Blacks had been the same, and the Sierras had been the best overall, kind, honest... They had just hadn't like her. She wondered if this family would.

They were older, in their late fifties, and overall the oldest foster parents she had had, just barely below the limit of sixty five. Hank Booth was tall and had a decent, yet aged build, his clothes were neat and clean. His posture was straight, only stooped with age, his shoulders broad and his slightly weathered hands calloused. A working man with bright eyes, and a slight youthful spring in his step. His hair was peppered like his wife's, brown to her blonde. Aurora Booth was clean to a fault, her neat white dress had not a spot nor fray and her aged face was free of makeup. Her hands were manicured and looked very different from Temperance's own, messy hands. She thought back to what she remembered from what Chirban had told her.

They had two grandsons, and they both lived in the house by the people that had raised them. The older one, Seeley Booth, twenty two, was currently in the military, a Ranger, she heard, and a sniper. He was expected home any day now, his last tour almost done. The youngest grandson, at eighteen, Jared was a senior at her new high school. The thought of boys made her feel uncomfortable, especially the older one. She was just glad she had time to adjust before he came(if she stayed long enough to meet him that is).The younger one also made her nervous...The fact that they would interact socially both in school and at home? That just made it worst. She watched as Ms. Chirban tapped her high heal foot, her large lips a deep red, and twisted in displeasure. She wasn't the most patient of people, even Temperance could see that easily enough. She watched as Mrs. Booth signed the forms next, quickly and not even bothering to read them after her husband had signed, and passed them briskly to Chirban, who gave a wan smile.

"So, any questions?"snapped Chirban, studying her long red nails after a moment, closing the manilla folder and placing her hands intertwined on top of it.

"No, not at all Ms. Chirban."said Mrs. Booth pleasantry.

Mr. Booth himself just gave her a smile. Chirban studied them for one long second, before she turned to the sullen teenager next to them. Temperance hardly bothered to look up from the interesting section of carpet in front of her, which looked to be stained with something. Judging by the color, and by the size, she guessed it was from a mug of coffee. Black. Most likely had some form of mold underneath the gray carpet. She wondered if she pointed that out how would her caseworker react?

"Temperance, you are now officially apart of the Booth family."said Chirban, making Temperance jump.

She looked up slightly, and trying to stop her hands from twisting in her lap, a nervous habit she could never quite break yet. Through the curtain of her hair she could see Chirban's steady black eyes, and she swallowed slightly. She hated being studied. It irked her by the fact that she couldn't really understand if she studied back.

"Thank you ma'am."she said simply, as she had done many times before, for the same reason.

Probably not for the last time.

"Temperance go get your things."she said watching as the girl stood up on her thin gangly legs and walked out of the room with a stiff nod to the elderly couple in front of her.

It was then that Chirban turned to the Booths and gave them the hardest look they had ever seen. The mask of indifference and apathy she had been wearing dropped, and she grimaced as she heard her office door click.

"Tread carefully with this girl Mr. and Mrs. Booth."she said, leaning forward and for once showing more than bored impatience.

Mrs. Booth frowned, and lifted her chin slightly.

"Pardon?"she snapped, not liking the woman's tone.

Chirban sighed sharply, rubbing her eyes as she gave the elderly couple another piercing look.

"I don't think you understand something Mr. and Mrs. Booth. Temperance Brennan is a very delicate case."she said softly.

She paused for a moment looking away as she looked at her hands, sighing again.

"You've read her file, and you've seen how many homes she been through in a two years alone, which counting you, is sixteen. She does not adapt well to strange situations, and people do not adapt well to her. People tend to react negatively to her, it only serves to make it harder for her."

"Maybe she hasn't been around the right kind of people."said Hank gruffly.

Chirban gave him a stiff smile, her black eyes narrowing.

"You have no idea how right you are. Out of all her homes? Eleven have been found to be incompetent and either neglectful or abusive towards her and their other children. Or both. This girl is unsocial to a fault, partially due to the trauma of abandonment caused by her parents' disappearance and her brother taking off, and partly due to Temperance's own personality."said Chirban, looking downwards for a second.

"We know all this hon, we've read her file."said Mrs. Booth simply.

Chirban sighed slightly and looked back at the elderly couple.

"That's not the only factor. The girl's intellect? It's off the charts. Easily surpassing genius level I.Q. This only adds to her social inadequacy... Your both are kind people Mr. and Mrs. Booth, but with Temperance? I'm not sure anyone can handle her. Even with previous experience with children with history of abuse."she said sharply, looking at them pointedly.

Hank Booth narrowed his icy eyes at the woman. It was common knowledge within the state after he and he Aurora had applied to be foster parents of their son's treatments of their grandchildren, and his ex-wife. However, in the ten or so years most did not touch that subject with a ten foot pole. He admired the woman's forwardness, and her protectiveness of Temperance, but felt a slight sting to his pride as a parent every time his Edwin was mentioned. Rora beside him was stiff and she glared at the younger woman.

"Ms. Chirban, we are more than happy to help Temperance. She needs a good family. Or last foster children have already moved out,went to college with honors... And our youngest grandson Jared is wonderful, friendly and a breath of fresh air. Our oldest is scheduled to come home soon, going to college. Seeley is wonderful with kids. It's the kind of environment Temperance needs, I think."she said seriously.

Ruth Chirban looked at them for one second, true smile appearing on the young woman's face. All traces of indifference and harshness suddenly disappeared, and she looked like she was her actual age in the first time since the Booths had set eyes on her. She was a young, serious woman who truly loved her job and loathed it at the same time. She wasn't all sunshine, she knew, but she truly cared for the children under her care, and she was going out on a limb for the Booths so they could adopt Temperance.

"Then I hope you can make Temperance happy. She needs a little happiness in her life."she said simply, straightening as the door to her office opened.

Temperance walked briskly in, adjusting the strap of her book bag, as well as lifting the black garbage bag high on her shoulder. She did not smile as the Booths came to her, Hank relieving her of the garbage bag, even as she quietly protested, and Aurora grasping her small hand tightly between both of her own. Both Booths smiled for what seemed like the millionth time. Temperance tried to ignore the fact that it led to a sort of warm tingle in her chest. She quashed it down, knowing that hope was not something she should have, especially after all this time.

"Welcome to the family dear."said Aurora Booth.

"Come on Temperance, let's take you home."said Hank softly, leading both his wife and new foster daughter out of the office.

"I'll see you in a month for the checkup."said Chirban, as a form of goodbye.

The walk out of the building was spent in a sort of stiff silence. Temperance didn't move her gaze from her sneaker clad feet, and tugged her hand away from Mrs. Booth's as soon as she was able, trying to do so gently so she wouldn't offended the woman. She had pointedly refused to let Mr. Booth carry the bet up backpack, telling him softly that he couldn't carry everything. She couldn't really tell them that it carried all of the possessions that actually mattered to her. The garbage bag only had her clothing, and a few odds and ends. Her bag held her books, fictional and nonfiction, one video tape of Boris Karloff's, The Mummy, her few CDs and player, her journal and writing supplies, a pair of leather shoes, all the money she had and a single plush dolphin that she had gotten in the mail. No return address. Just a simple Happy birthday Tempi, with love. She tried to ignore the twinge of hope whenever she thought of the dolphin...

When they arrived at the Booths' car, Temperance had to take a moment to register it, blinking rapidly as she saw Mr. Booth grin proudly, and a bit with a mad-hatter-esque touch as he patted the hood of the muscle car fondly. It was a white, lean machine, older in design, she knew, and that was really all she knew. She blamed her lack of knowledge in automobiles due to the fact that she didn't know how to drive, knowing that as a paranoid person she would learn all she could with the mechanics and physics having to do with a car just to make her feel safe.

"1973 Ford Mustang. The seventies were an amazing time for cars, hon."said Hank as he gave the brilliantly white car another fond pat, winking to her.

Mrs. Booth snorted, rolling her eyes at her husband.

"Temperance, you'll learn too much about cars around the boys."she said as she ushered the girl into the car with a soft laugh.

"There is nothing wrong with learning about cars!"said Hank as he opened the door for the two ladies of his household.

He smiled as Temperance squeezed into the middle, and watched with slight admiration as Rora did the same, loving the way she moved her dress, just so she wouldn't give anyone a show. She had done that over twenty years ago, and he figured that she would still do that until the day she died. He placed the Temperance's bag in the trunk, and seated himself by the wheel, feeling himself grin, and felt like a school boy as he put the keys into the ignition of his baby.

"Amazing sound."he mused as the car purred to life.

Temperance only gave him a smile, a small, and quick up turn of her lips, but Hank couldn't help but count that as a victory. Maybe this girl would be smiling fully soon enough. It was a wistful thought, but it made him smile all the same. The ride to the Booth home was a long, silent one. The only noise other than the hum of the engine and the air drifting in through the open windows, was the golden oldies blasting from the stereo. Temperance did not recognize the song, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. When they slowed, Temperance took in the home that was to house her for the minimum of a month.

It was an older home, a lovely two story painted a soft green, trimmed in white. The front yard was neatly cut and the flowers all were set in overfilling beds, and the slight messiness to of the spilling flowers gave the house a tone of both playfulness and casualness that made more of that pesky hope in her chest rise up. Sitting on the porch on the swing was someone that made her palms begin to sweat. It seemed her foster brother had taken upon himself to wait for his grandparents.

"Pops! Ma!"cried out the boy in a slightly deep voice, cracking slightly, sprinting over with ease as his grandparents called back in greeting.

He helped his grandmother out of the car with a wink, and when he turned to do the same her, Temperance took all of her will power not to cringe. She did take his hand out of politeness, but she did not smile as his dark eyes looked from her toes to the top of her head. He smiled, slightly, nothing more than an upturn twitch of his lips, and helped her out of the muscle car. Jared Booth was a handsome person, Temperance thought, her own lips twitching downwards on reflex. His face was symmetrical, almost too perfect, and his long, firm limbs made her feel tiny in comparison, odd to her since she had always felt too tall to be normal. By the easy gait of his run, she could tell he was athletic.

This meant bad things for Temperance, she could tell. Being athletic meant being of a higher social class than a strange, quiet nerd like her. Clash of the social classes she thought, almost smiling. He wasn't going to associate with her outside of any of the classes they might share or the Booth's home.

"Jared."he said polity, his smile wide and almost contagious.

"Temperance."she said back, not smiling.

"That's a mouthful... Why don't we give you a nickname or something... Tempie?"he asked, still grinning.

Temperance felt a hot flash of anger, and her steely eyes narrowed at the taller boy. No one called her Tempie, she thought, a voice whispering Marco in her head... _No one_.

"My name is _Temperance_."she repeated quietly, feeling her voice crack.

"But that's such an old name... Come on, Tempie's not going kill you."he said stubbornly, his brows furrowing.

Temperance resisted the urge to deck him flat out. Thankfully, Hank did some of the job for her, slapping his grandson upside the head with a loud sound.

"Boy's got no tack _or _manners..."he muttered, heading inside.

"Temperance is a fine name son. My best-friend in grade school was named Temperance."said Aurora, a grin appearing on her lips.

Temperance was then ushered inside without another word, and she noted that Jared had run off upstairs without another word. Much like the outside the inside possessed a sort of elegance that was causal messiness at the same time. The living room was a hodgepodge of loveseats and armchairs, all clustered around a large television and VCR. A built-in shelf to her far right held a curious mixture of pictures of children, from Caucasian to Oriental, smiling at the camera with the elder Booths around them, sometimes with Jared and tall, handsome man she assumed to be Seeley Booth. The sight Seeley Booth in his army fatigues made her stare, for she had never seen a man smiling so easily, yet keep such a strict posture.

"Shrimp's almost home."said Hank Booth excitedly to her right grinning ear to ear, following her gaze.

Temperance stared at him blankly.

"Excuse me?"she asked, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

Hank laughed, patting the girl on the shoulder softly. He didn't miss her flinch, but chose to ignore it.

"Shrimp is Seeley, he always such a small child."said Aurora, smiling calmly.

When Temperance stared at the towering man in the photographs, she couldn't help but let out a small snort. Both Hank and Rora took this as a good sign and laughed as well.

"Well, he grew up."said Aurora, laughing again.

"I can see that."she replied quietly, moving away her gaze to the rest of living room.

She was then given a general tour of downstairs, which consisted of the living room, a bathroom, the kitchen, dinning room, and Hank's man cave, as he so proudly called it. She was cautioned of the small closet looking door that lead to the basement, and that the light bulb always went out down there. When she was ushered upstairs she was shown the master bedroom and the a-joining bathroom, and was told not to worry about needing to go in there at all. Down the other hall, she was shown Jared's room, an empty room, and what would be Seely Booth's again. Then, with a smile she was shown her own room.

"We'll leave you to settle honey. The door to your right is your closet, to your left is the bathroom... You'll have to share with the boys I'm afraid... I hope you like it."said Aurora Booth, tugging her husband away.

When Temperance opened the door, she couldn't help but stare. It was good sized room, bigger than any she ever had in a while, with large widows that gave her plenty of natural light, with heavy drapes when she didn't want it. They overlooked the backyard, which surprisingly held a swing set and a small shed. Her bed was a mixture between a twin and a full, with a soft green spread. To the side of it laid end table with a lamp she could use to read at night, with a small lockable drawer that had the key in the keyhole. A good side desk was parallel to the bed, and another lamp was on top of it, as well as a mug for pens and pencils. It had a funny little skull on it, and Temperance instantly liked it. A book shelf was next to the desk, and she saw a variety of books on it already, most likely left by previous kids... The walls were a soft brown, and all around with it's wooden floors the room gave a very warm, earthy feel.

Temperance felt nothing but a sort of disconnect to the whole thing. She threw her garbage bag in the general direction of the closet, and locked the bathroom door on her end. She took off her shoes, and sat gingerly on the soft, sweet smelling bedspread. With much practice she took out her pair of good, sturdy leather shoes. She flipped the right shoe, picking up a permanent marker and carefully writing out _Booth _below _Roads_ in her small, clean script.

_Just another name_, she thought softly, laying on her back to stare at the ceiling.


End file.
